[to granddaughter in labor]
Now, you breathe deep and you push hard. You push and you push. You push harder, harder, harder, harder, or I will go down there and get a plunger and SUCK that baby out of you! Grandma Mirabeau: [to granddaughter Maine] I'm not asking you to be a normal child, 'cause that's not the Mirabeau way. I'm just asking you to be a little smarter about your crazy side, okay? Grandma Mirabeau: [opens dressing room door] Maine! Maine Mirabeau: Wait, we have movement! Grandma Mirabeau: Get me some toilet paper, hunnie, cuz I gotta go to the bathroom! Price Way Manager: [terrified look] [knocking on dressing room door] Price Way Manager: $56.90 Lady, you win! Young Carolina: Georgia, we are not being raised right. Carolina Mirabeau: Who wants to say grace? Albert Morris: I do. Grandma Mirabeau: Oh, Albert, I love you like a son, honey. But you Jewish people, you can't go and kill Christ and expect to have a sit down conversation with him later. Albert Morris: Fine. He's all yours. I'll chat with him over dessert. [Everybody laughs] Grandma Mirabeau: [to young girls Georgia and Carolina] Go ahead. Kill each other. Don't worry about the mess. I'll hose it down when the killing's over. Carolina Mirabeau: [to ex lover Heath] It's like you're this beautiful, expensive Italian suit. And I just don't have the faintest idea where I'm gonna wear you. Grandma Mirabeau: [Saying grace at a Thanksgiving's Day dinner] Lord, bless my family. Fill their bellies and keep them warm and safe. And, now, Lord, let's get personal. Please find Georgia a man to daddy that young 'un she's carrying. Give Maine those lottery numbers before she loses her virginity on that rocking horse. Lord, let my Teddy settle down and plant some roots. Look over my sister, Marilyn, who, bless her ignorant soul, is back in jail again. Enlighten her about cellular telephones and credit card transactions both of which are traceable. And, finally, Lord, bless my Carolina's heart for she is the best part of me. Amen. Young Carolina: [to young Georgia] You're not a fairy princess, you're a fairy bitch! Grandma Mirabeau: Now remember girls. God said celebrate, not celibate.